Rayne'd
by Chaos Eternus
Summary: Rayne manages to escape from prision and findds himself wishing he hadnt bothered. Ethan Bashing
1. Default Chapter

**Rayne'd  
by Chaoseternus  
**

Dont own BTVS or the mini-crosses...

Humour/Ethan Bashing

To say it was a bad day for Rayne was to understate the matter.  
It had, up till now been a good week.  
Normally he was monitored 24/7 to ensure he didnt use any magic but he had managed to magic his way of of his cell whilst his guards were distracted by the sounds of a riot in the area marked only Restricted: Area 52 Prisoners and Personal Only Gleefully, he had noted that his escape was during Shift Change, making it all the easier to jump into the boot of a Car about to leave the premises and aided by a simple 'Somebody Elses Problem' spell, get successfully past the guards and overblown inspections required to exit the base.  
They weren't set up with the mystical in mind after all.  
Leaving the company of the unknown pencil-pusher whose car he had borrowed, a Dr Rodney McKay according to the name on his letterbox, he had not only managed to find transport but transport that came will willing female company.  
Okay, so she was undead but after 5 years in prison, Rayne was happy even for that company.  
They had raised terror and chaos in their journey across America, heading towards the Cleveland Hellmouth with the sole intention of taking over the town.  
That, Rayne had to admit, was probably his first mistake.  
His Companion, the lovely, if pyscotic Drucilla was dust on the wind, the victim of, of all the things to be killed by, a falling mirror which had, in a move Rayne would only have believed if he had seen in a cartoon, caught the sun and redirected the full blast onto Dru's neck.  
Cursing and screaming, he had attempted to go outside only to have to duck back inside as he spotted Riley Finn moving into the room on his left.  
Rayne should have spotted it when the room on his right filled, should have known the universe had it in for him and laid low for a while but in his arrogance he had stayed.  
Despite a pensive looking Mckay moving into Room 12 on his right joined by a team calling themselves SG-1 who just happened to have photfit pictures of him and, if his danger sense, augmented as it was by various spells, was anything to go by, a Presidential Mandate to bring him in for questioning. Something about a foothold, whatever that was.  
He should certainly have taken notice when that bloody boy scout moved in downstairs, mainly because Ethan knew damn well he had killed that bloody Scot fifteen years ago to get some quick cash.  
Ethan gave himself a small pat on the back for noteing the surrealness of it all when he saw the Charmed Ones show up with trunks through his tightly closed windows.  
He had made the sensible decison then, and decided to skip town.  
Naturally it hadnt worked, or he wouldnt be in this mess now.  
For a start, the car which had worked reliably and unfalteringly for months, died.  
Spectacularly.  
As in, burst into flames.  
Something which generally only occured in the movies.  
It had caused unwanted attention from the very people he was trying to escape from but he had worn a disquise and knowing the Charmed Ones would have sensed a Glamour, made it a non-mystical disquise.  
He was truly shocked that, surrounded totally by several groups of people, all of whom he either knew were after him or had a pretty good idea they were after him, that he had managed not to be spotted.  
He could have sworn his heart was beating loud enough to be heard all the way over in merry old England, but apparently not.  
When he spotted Willow in town whilst... ahem, 'shopping' for a new car, he had decided to forgo skipping the town and go straight to skipping the country.  
A truly sensible decison indeed, there had been far too many coincidences for his liking, far too many people just happened to show up in town who were either known enemies of his or searching for him.  
Naturally, his new transport had died right out in the sticks with only the one house in sight, a massive faux-English Manor.  
Maybe he could get some help there, he needed to get the car sorted and fast.  
This town wasnt a healthy place to be.

Xander glanced up as movement registered on his eye, his hands stilling in the dishwater as he gazed disbelieving out the window.  
"Giles" he finally managed to gasp out, "Is that Ethan Rayne coming up the drive"  
He watched, slightly nervous as Giles carefully placed the Dish he was drying back on the draining board, dropped the towel on the rack and gazed blandly at the unmistakeable figure approaching the rear of the Scoobies new home.  
With a slight tut, he turned, rummaging through the open toolbox Xander had left on the dining room table and selected a large mallot.  
"I'm just popping out for a while, I may be some time"  
With that, he strode out of the kitchen.  
Ethan's day was about to get a lot worse.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rayne'd  
by Chaoseternus **

yes, i know i said thiss would just be a one shot... but I'm betting I wont be hearing any real complaints though ;)

**Two**

Ethan Rayne was unhappy, in fact, he was very very unhappy.

It was bad enough that he had a blasted dress wearing pansy-arsed 'oh, I'm a sorcerer and I'm so _bad _' twat called Malfoy after his head, something to do with Chaos Mages making great spell components.

How that came about, Rayne didn't know. Personally, any spell made form a worshipper of chaos Rayne would love to watch…. But only from a great distance. Alpha Centauri would do, in a pinch, there was after all, chaos… and then there was _Chaos. _

Then, his sources clued him in on the _insult. _Malfoy wasn't the Big Bad, no, he was merely a lackey. A lackey! A chaos mage of his calibre being chased by a mere lackey, it was more then an insult, it was a blow to his professional pride, one that would have to be repaid.

Assuming of course, he survived. Malfoy had several advantages going for him, lots of money and a pair of his own lackeys, the dull-witted Crabbe and Goyle. Indeed, the three of them had led him a merry chase for a while until he had his brainwave… why not go and kidnap their kids? Use them as leverage…

He should have stopped himself right there, he should have known enough not to attempt it, he should have… well, he should have done lots of things, but he didn't.

In his arrogance, he had seen breaking into Hogwarts as too much off an interesting challenge, something he couldn't turn his back on.

Sometimes, Rayne had to admit to himself, he could be a right-stupid prick.

Naturally he had gotten caught. That he could accept, after all, the US Military had captured him and if they could, well, anyone could.

What he couldn't accept was them waiting inside Hogwarts, right at the point where the secret passage joined with the main corridors. What he couldn't accept was the comments about him being late, and that they thought he would have managed it a bit quicker then this with his reputation, and he was highly pissed of that they knew enough to have all his favourite foods and his favourite pint waiting for him, held in the arms of that blasted old fogey, Dumbledore. Him with his twinkling eyes and almost perpetual good humour…

Then, they told him how they knew he was coming.

He, Ethan Rayne, had a prophecy concerning him.

He was an agent of _chaos, _for bloody-hells sake, unpredictable, changing… chaotic! The whole concept was anathema to the notion of a prophecy.

Nevertheless…

Of course, the bloody prophecy told him that without his co-operation, the world… well, it wouldn't technically end, but with all the magic in the world being channelled into voldiewart, an agent of the dark, Rayne knew it would be merely a matter of time before something annoyed the new god voldie and he ended it.

Rayne didn't like that on several levels, one, he definitely liked being a chaos mage thank you very much, it was… intoxicating if occasionally dangerous. Two, he didn't like the fact that the ritual required a dead chaos mage, i.e. him, three, well, he didn't like the concept of having to work with the white-hats to prevent the oncoming apocalypse, but an apocalypse was bad for business and like it or not, he was certainly involved. Staying alive meant working with the white hats…

That was damned annoying.

Finding out that the disorder of the blasted phoenix had recruited the former Scooby's, well, that had sent him straight to the bottle. It was truly bender worthy have the universe seemed to hate him at that moment.

Then, Willow showed up.

Sweet, innocent Willow…. Now very dangerous uber-witch with enough power that she had re-ordered the entire slayer line. Powerful enough that Rayne had little doubt that like Hecate before her, she was headed for ascension, she was going to become a fundamental of magic.

That wasn't just bender worthy, that was…

Well, there wasn't enough beer in the whole world to figure out what that was worthy of, and he was including the really shitty American piss they called beer in that.

She was also annoyed with him still. He _had _wet his pants at that and naturally, somebody had a bloody camera handy to record his humiliation. The prints had then been protected against interference from chaos magic too…

And now, in order to protect life and limb, i.e. his, he was placed right in the front row of an all-out magical battlefield right next to 'he who lived to be self-righteous'

Oh yes, and the enemy seemed to want him dead or alive…

Bloody fucking perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rayne'd  
by Chaoseternus **

**Three**

Getting away from the sorcerers hadn't been easy, they seemed to want a chat with him, something about adding twenty new Unforgivable's to the statute books…

Okay, so he had pinched a few of the ideas of that marvellous Dungeon Keeper game, but still, he didn't think a simple illusion that made the Death Eaters see their comrades as hated enemies was that bad. Okay, the results were chaotic, but what did they truly expect from him?

And hell, they had all those nice chickens to serve the kids now, weren't they going to thank him for reducing their food bills?

Apparently not, which was why he was here, hiding out in Africa where there was little chance of anyone every finding… Urrk!

"Hi, you wouldn't happen to be Ethan Rayne would you?"

Amazing body, highly athletic, pistols strapped to each leg, skin-tight grey leotard and an aristocratic accent.

Oh Lord, it's her.

"Only there is this tomb I wish to raid and it happens to be protected by chaos magic…"

"Right," he replied, "other then getting your hand off my throat, whats in it for me?"

"Well," came the dry reply, "the Earth gets to keep turning for a few more years"

That's it, Rayne thought; I'm escaping to a different reality at the first opportunity.

* * *

Little Miss Tomb Raider gone, check. 

Escape plan for when she figures out exactly who placed the shrinking spell on her underwear, checked, once twice and thrice.

Lighting spells check, survival and camping kit check, spare spell components, as well as food water and booze, checked. Reduction spell in order to fit the whole lot into his pocket, very checked and thank you sorcerers for confirming such a spell was possible.

One 'ring of the gods'… not checked.

In fact, very missing.

Just what did the USeless Air Force want with a dimensional portal anyway?

First attempt at escaping the Power That Be Complete Wankers failed, well, he could live with that, after all, just because one escape route had been blocked, didn't mean they were all gone did it.

Surely….

Rayne paused, if he had the Powers That Were Arseholes on his case, then yes, it was entirely possible that there was no escape for him.

Bugger, he was screwed wasn't he?

Still, all he could do was try, the alternative, becoming one of the 'Lights' whipping boys didn't sit that well at all.

Besides, he had managed to 'acquire' the wardrobe off the Pevensies, all he had to do was figure out how to 'open' it.

Gleefully grinning at his escape, Rayne stepped through the portal, almost laughing in delight as the first thing he saw was a trio of creatures that didn't exist on Earth, well, not as far as he was aware anyway.

All three of whom were gazing between him and the strange horn they were carrying in shocked amazed delight.

"So," Rayne asked cheerfully, "Nice horn"

The Dryad nodded dazed, and the Centaur gazed at him in awe and obvious agreement and the Dwarf, stuttering replied.

"That's the Horn of Queen Susan, it is said that whenever it is sounded, help of some kind will come," the Dwarf shook his head, "and here you are, welcome, chosen saviour of our Free Narnia"

Oh bugger was the only thought Rayne could manage in response to that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Large army of supposedly mystical creatures all waiting for a fight, check.

Him, in the front row, riding a _talking horse_ and ready to lead said army into battle at the 'request' of a talking _Lion_ whose mystical power appeared to be roughly equivalent to the energy released by a nuke, check.

Enemy army approaching, check.

Said army approximately _four times_ the size of his own, oh bugger.

His sanity?

Checked out hours ago and currently on the beach at Blackpool.

Just what in the name of chaos was he doing here anyway?

Ah yes, that was it, trying to survive and not get eaten by the Lion, Brilliant plan.

At least these 'Narnians' knew how to pick a fight, he thought, gazing up as wave after wave of flying creatures passed overhead most carrying rocks, but he would love to know how exactly they had learned that particular trick.

He grinned maliciously as the smaller birds started flocking overhead, carrying not rocks but his party favours, a few herbal mixtures he had concocted or heard about over the years contained in highly fragile and breakable jugs.

If he survived, he would remember this day fondly for a long time. Of course, chaos had to have its way first…

* * *

I am never using those party favours again, Rayne told himself as he gazed across the battlefield, trying hard to resist the urge to scrub his eyes out.

Admittedly, the birds had shown themselves to have _exceptional_ aim, though the comment from his 'good right hand' that several of the birds had actually done this before was again, a worrying development. Especially coupled with the names 'Susan, Peter, Edmund and Lucy', now he _really_ wanted to know where exactly they had gotten the wardrobe from.

Still, good aim meant the rocks had torn great holes in the approaching army. Unfortunately, said army being four times larger could afford such losses far better then they could.

Good aim also meant most of his party favours got to work. Unfortunately, that led to the eyeball scrubbing. Minotaur charging in full battle army was bad, pissed off Minotaur charging in a too-tight woman's corset? Disturbing and scary. Said Minotaur getting hit by another special and suddenly finding itself wearing nothing at all? Actually, somewhat of a relief.

Sudden quicksand appearing under a giant? Helpful, took a _big_ player out of the fight, but when said giant thrashes around, taking out a number of its comrades in arms whilst trying to escape, well, that's just a bonus.

Finding out his untested 'chicken' bombs work? Beautiful, but finding the enemy line break at human sized chickens appearing amongst them was even better. Seeing the chickens peek at the ankle-bitters, mistaking them for edible worms… priceless.

Add to that a modification of his spell to make allies be seen as hated enemies, and the chaos in the ranks was just gratifying.

Rayne wondered idly if the 'evil' forces of the Usurper Queen Meredith would ever actually bother to continue closing with his forces, but he rather suspected it would be a while before that happened. His specials might have been used, but they were still dropping rocks so his forces were still contributing to the enemy's losses. That was a good thing, he would hate for Meredith's army to kill themselves before his own people had a shot at it.

His _own_ people? Time to stop thinking to yourself Rayne.

* * *

Battle won, check. Minimal casualties on his side due to the blatant demoralisation of the enemy, check.

Him still alive, very much checked, thank you Janus!.

His escape from Narnia, not checked.

Him new King of Narnia?

"Fuck _that_ for a game of soldiers, there is no way am I becoming the ponce in charge. I'm a chaos mage not a bloody royal!"

* * *

Out of Narnia, check.

Location, unknown, definitely a downside.

Metal room, check, ship-like portholes, check, but not promising.

Stars outside porthole… there are bloody _stars_ outside the buggering _porthole._

One Rayne, almost certainly Royally Screwed, checked.

"Just what in the name of the Tester are you doing in my quarters?"

Very pissed off and dangerously looking Lady with a gun, check.

Cat like creature hissing at him with nice sharp claws, check.

Pants… still clean, somehow.

Just what had he truly done to deserve all this?

Well, _apart_ from the Halloween costumes, the band candy and all the rest of that stuff that is. Oh yes, and the various bodies and attempted bodies, but nonetheless, what had he done to deserve this?

Okay, so in space, definite bonus there but exactly what _yeaaarrggghhh!_

* * *

Okay, so this 'Harrington' apparently has her own personal bulldog called Lafollette who seems to find someone just 'appearing' in his steadholders room, whatever that is, a personal insult.

Said bulldog has a very mean tackle.

Oh yes, he also has a gun and a lot of friends with guns.

That's it.

I'm swearing of chaos, if Janus wants a flunkey, he is going to have to look for a new one… on the other hand, telling the God of Chaos to stuff it is probably not the healthiest of career moves.

Damnation.

He couldn't even claim all this was karma, okay yes; he had certainly done a few things to deserve a bit of bad karma but not anything worthy of the constant trouble he had had to put up with the last few months surely!

Still, okay, on a warship of the Grayson Navy, a capital ship fine. Appeared in the CO's quarters… shit. Well, there was trouble for you right there, as in 'toss out the airlock' type trouble.

Headed into battle… outnumbered two to one and not likely to be reinforced.

Okay, so they didn't need to bother chucking him out the airlock, he really wanted to know what he had done to deserve this.

Well, yes, _apart_ from all that stuff.

* * *

Survived battle… sort of checked. Okay, he was alive but intact? Not so much. Then again, he should be grateful; if that piece of shrapnel had flown just two inches to the left he would be joining the choir…. As a soprano.

Still, it meant a trip with the 'steadholder' to her own city… damn and to her mothers medical facilities. Said mother being 'upset' with him for appearing in her daughters room whilst she was sleeping.

Pissed of mother is bad enough as it is but a pissed off mother who just happened to be one of the Docs piecing you back together… really not fun.

Still, he was still alive which was a bonus but as yet, not sign of any real chaos and he couldn't help but fell uneasy about that. Normally by now he would be up to his elbows in it.

* * *

He could take a hint, even if it wasn't a subtle one.

PA system frying when a certain steadholder tried to use it, managing to trip over his own feet at the exact moment he walked past, his computerised notes scrambling themselves and somehow he was always managing to be present for it?

Oh yes, he could taste the imprint of chaos and the invitation… this guy had pissed somebody off and Rayne was going to be the tool to do something about it.

He would love to know exactly whom Mueller had pissed off so badly, but he rather expected he didn't want to know. All he was interested in was that it was not him who was getting the wrong end of the stick this time.

* * *

Alive… somehow checked.

He really should have checked their religious beliefs before he tried that kind of magic, but how was he to know those barbarians still meant it when they said they burnt witches… well, mage in his case at the stake?

Okay, yes, so he had turned Mueller into a mangy old stray in the middle of a conclave and yes, he had arranged for his equipment to drop off the previous night when he tried to use it and yes, he had arranged for somebody with less 'questionable' morals then Muellers to see his personal files but still, how did they figure out how he had done it?

Wait… less questionable morals?

Since when did that matter to him? If this kept up he was going to become a thrice blasted white hat!

And damn, but they were persistent, the Protectors Guards were catching up again, he needed to get out of this place.

* * *

"You know," Benjamin Mayhew commented, bemused and slightly baffled, "I have never seen anyone so eager to avoid the Star of Grayson before."

"Perhaps he thought merely ferreting out of traitor and preventing an assassination attempt wasn't worth it," Hamish Alexander the Protector a slight smile, his eyes twinkling, "after all, he _has_ been living in Harrington Steading and who else do you know who has turned down the Parliamentary Medal Of Valour?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Rayne'd  
by Chaoseternus **

**Five**

Ethan stepped warily out of the portal, just waiting for the shoe to drop. Looked clear… okay, if he was to be honest, he would say, looked 'futuristic'. Familiarly so…

Okay, that was a warning sign right there, but so far, no pathetic cries for help, no shouts about prophesied ones arriving, no body out to kill him, looked like this might just be a nice quiet pleasant visit.

Please please no….

He didn't just think that did he?

He did.

Fuck, he _really _ needed to get out of this dimension. He would have to see what he could do about gathering the necessary spell components or at least something close enough that he could 'fudge' it.

* * *

"Strange,"

"A man should not just be able to appear in the middle of an alleyway,"

"I agree my young Padawan," Qui-Gon Jinn replied, "but we have other business to attend too, the negotiations at Naboo for one."

Obi-wan nodded, "I suggest we place a tracer on our unknown visitor and inform the council before we go however,"

"A sound course of action." Qui-Gon replied, reaching into a pocket of his robes.

* * *

Okay, so no ID a definite problem, damnation, that spell to fudge some valid documents would have worked… if they hadn't been checking against a computer database. He hadn't had the time and supplies to create a magical set of IDs that would deal with that.

Naturally, the universe took advantage of that.

Okay, so he damn well knew Murphy was Chaos'es most favoured servant but still, he _really _ wanted to know what he had done to make that…. Thing turn all his attention towards him. He hadn't done anything to deserve this at all.

Well, again, _apart _ from all that stuff. Sheesh, would have thought he would have made up for that by now. Or perhaps they thought the needed some goodwill in hand.

Note to self, enough thinking. Thinking just leads mind to bad places… what could he possibly do that would be so bad that he would need some goodwill in hand for?

Well, this ship was apparently preparing to leave, perhaps he could stowaway and escape this miserable place on it. Assuming the guards didn't spot him…

Which they didn't.

Fuck.

That could only really mean one thing, couldn't it.

He was screwed again… well, not _literally _ of course, that he might actually enjoy, unless Murphy got involved and he ended up finding himself in bed with a slime demon again.

Gah, he really needed to stop thinking.

Oh yes, and to scrub his eyeballs out with carbolic soap, anything to get rid of that last mental image…

Stuffed shirts one and two leaving vessel in their pancy robes check.

Lots of bloody robots walking around outside the ship check.

He really had stepped straight into again hadn't he?

Frying pan, meet fire, fire meet frying pan.

Bugger.

And wait, what was that whirring?

Were those gun turrets pointing at his ship…

Oh _fuck. _

* * *

"You were right master, the negotiations were…"

Obi-wan stumbled, glancing down at the battered, slightly scorched figure on the ground he had nearly tripped over.

"Is this not the gentlemen who appeared in the alleyway in Coruscent?"

Qui-gon frowned, rubbing his beard, "it is indeed. That we could meet in such unexpected fashions in two completely different places…"

"You think the force has brought this person to us for a reason?"

"Perhaps," the Jedi glanced around, "and if the droids discover him he will not receive a warm welcome. Come, we must take him with us."

Obi-wan sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "this will not be easy."

In the custody of some very wary and distrustful soldiers whose world was apparently just invaded, check.

Being watched like a hawk, check.

Little opportunity to escape; checked.

Desire to escape… not checked. Look like Dune out there, all desert, no oasis's, no green, no nothing. Just sand.

If they decided to dump him here…

Well, if they did, they it might turn out to be a damn good thing he had read Frank Herbert's books and yet, those didn't seem to fit, something was still bugging him about the ship, the clothes, the manner of the two robed ones..

It would come to him eventually he was sure, in the meantime they apparently just had to wait for this Qui-Gon Jinn to return before they left but if he was seeing correctly, then they weren't far away anyway, just a matter of minutes. Time to hide and hope they didn't get the idea to chase him off the ship…

Wait, who was that coming up behind the Nancy boy?

Nice Olympic leap, he'd give him an 8.5 for that; didn't think he was friendly though, not when he was trying to put a lightsaber into his 'rescuer'.

Wait.

A lightsaber.

A _Bloody _ lightsaber.

A _bloody helling _lightsaber.

Son of a bitch.

That meant the bastard Qui-Gon was facing was Darth Maul, didn't it?

"You know his name?" a sharp voice said beside him, and Rayne glanced startled into the wary, piercing eyes of the handmaiden Padme… the handmaiden who right now held a pistol that wasn't quite pointed at him.

Fuck.

* * *

Palpatine outed, check.

Padme, handmaiden to the Queen… the new chancellor. Someone would definitely need to explain that to him again 'cos he had certainly missed something there. Opportunity to leave for his next 'exciting' adventure not yet arisen, he didn't know whether he was glad or just petrified.

Well, so long as that thrice damned and blasted green Goblin kept away from his he would be fine…

"Appropriate around younglings, your language is not."

Oh _hell _no…

Carbolic soap mouthwash number seventy-nine.

Bastard.

"Learn slow you do,"

Eighty…

He needed to get out of this place, seriously.

* * *

Okay, good point, he was out of the Temple of the Jedi and well, out of the entire dimension.

Bad news, he was out of that dimension.

At least there he had some idea where he was and what was likely to happen, right now he didn't have a clue.

Though he guessed the gun he could now feel pressed to the back of his head was a bad sign.

"Starbuck, got a new skinjob here!"

Wait, wasn't Starbucks…. Yehah, at least they should have a decent cuppa here. He turned and the world went abruptly black.


End file.
